by Maya Cross
For the last hour, I'd been trying to picture what lay hidden back there. I'd conjured images of exclusive restaurants and secret board rooms. But nothing prepared me for the reality of what was around the bend.
I turned the corner, and stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes darting left and right, madly trying to take in everything that lay before me. The entire place reeked of decadence. If you took away all the trappings, it was basically just a function room, but it was the most lavish function I'd ever seen. The space was far longer than I'd expected; over two hundred feet of polished wood, lush curtains and decorative brass. To one side lay a long redwood bar, laden with more varieties of liquor than I could count. To the other sat circles of high-backed lounges, most of which were filled with suited men, laughing and chatting and swilling drinks. The whole room smelled of malt and cologne and the sharp, earthy scent of leather. There was enough testosterone in the air to corrupt a nunnery.
What really took me by surprise however, was the pool that wove its way up the centre of the room. It was a beautiful sight. Elegantly curved and bathed in colour, it shimmered under a dizzying array of shifting lights that shone down from the roof above.
As I'd suspected, there were far more people present than we'd seen enter. At least a hundred. But where the hell had they all come from? Obviously there had to be other entrances, but why not just come in the front? The whole situation was getting stranger by the minute.
It seemed that whatever the men were discussing, the girls weren't welcome. Most were making good use of the pool, either swimming or lazing on sun chairs to the side, chatting in little groups. A few of them cast eyes my way, like hopefuls at a casting call sizing up their competition. Relax girls, I'm just visiting.
As I scanned the room, I spotted several more security personnel posted along the walls. With their dark glasses, it was impossible to tell what they were looking at. At least one was talking into his earpiece, but nobody appeared to be moving towards me. Still, I knew I had to blend in fast.
Unfortunately, the whole place was so overwhelming that I had no idea what to do next. I couldn't see Chase anywhere, and even if I had, I wasn't sure what help that would be. It wasn't like I could just wander up and say hi. I was in over my head. To be honest, I don't think I'd really expected to make it that far. In the heat of the moment, the only plan that sprang to mind was, 'don't get caught.'
So, operating purely on instinct, I headed for the bar. I knew more drink was probably not the wisest move, but it was the most inconspicuous action I could think of, and it would buy me a little time.
"Champagne please," I said to one of the girls behind the counter, doing my best to look at ease.
"Of course. Would you like to see the full list? Otherwise I can recommend a few things. The Dom Perignon ninety-five, the Bollinger ninety-eight and the Krug eighty-eight are all drinking wonderfully at the moment."
I paused, before breaking into a laugh. What did you expect girl, a ten dollar Prosecco?
I opened my mouth to respond, but a voice cut in from a little way up the bar. "She'll have a glass of the Krug thanks Amber. And I'll take another Laphroaig. Neat." The man turned his attention to me. "The Krug is lovely. Dry, fruity, but with a hint of sweetness too. And the smell is to die for. I think you'll like it."
As he spoke, he rose and casually moved over to sit next to me. It wasn't my first rodeo. I knew when a man was making a move. And as much as his presumptuousness would normally have annoyed me, I found it difficult to muster much anger. He was gorgeous; a tall, lithe body wrapped in a crisp, charcoal three-piece suit. There's something so god damn sexy about a man who's confident enough to wear a three-piece. It's sophisticated, but with just the right amount of old school charm.
I cast my eyes over him unashamedly, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his hands, the way his jacket pulled tight over the powerful curves of his chest. He looked like he'd walked in directly from the set of a Hugo Boss advertisement. My pulse quickened once more.
As I studied him, he stared back, an odd smile playing on his lips. He was older than me, but not old, maybe early thirties, and he had the kind of dark complexion that always set my stomach tingling. That perfect, tantalising combination of olive skin, rugged stubble, and black, unruly hair. However, it was his eyes that really took me down for the count. Sharp and forest-green, they managed to be playful yet incredibly intense. I felt strangely powerless beneath that gaze, like he wasn't just looking at me, but into me. It wasn't fair for a man to have eyes like that.
Eventually, he glanced away, breaking the spell. As my brain kicked back into gear, I was annoyed to find myself adjusting my top. Come on Sophia, get a grip. He's hardly the first attractive guy who's ever hit on you. I placed my hands purposefully back on the bar, trying my best not to blush.
"And how would you know what I like?" I asked, adding a little venom to my voice. I hated being taken off balance like that.
"Oh, I don't know. Call it...men's intuition."
I rolled my eyes. "In my experience, men's intuition is rarely as good as they think it is."
He laughed, a look of mock offence appearing on his face. "You'll just have to wait and see won't you?"
His voice was deep and melodic, with hints of an accent; a faint European lilt that I couldn't quite place. It sent a shiver up my spine. I really wanted to be annoyed — that sort of aggressive approach was usually a major turn off for me — but he was making it very difficult.
"I'm Sebastian," he said, offering his hand.
"Sophia," I replied, returning the gesture. His grip was firm, his hand surprisingly rough, and it lingered a little longer than I'd expected.
"What a lovely name."
"It does the job," I said slowly.
He nodded, but said nothing else, seemingly happy to simply sit and study me. "Well Sebastian," I said eventually, feeling strangely self-conscious in the silence, "do you normally approach random girls in bars and select their drinks for them?"
His smile widened. "Quite often, yes."
"And how does that work out for you?"
"It usually has the desired effect."
I laughed. "Oh, and what might that be?"
"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he replied, in a way that did just that. I felt a brief flash of desire at the suggestion, but quickly smothered it. Sure he was attractive, but I wasn't there to become some CEO's trophy lay for the night.
I knew that this was a golden opportunity to find out who these people were, but slightly impaired as I was, I was struggling to find an opening. It didn't help that Sebastian had me completely on the back foot. At first glance he seemed confident and charming, the sort of guy I saw every day around the office. But behind that roguish charisma lay something dangerously alluring; a potent strength that seemed to beckon to my very core. It was intimidating, arousing, and more than a little distracting.
At that moment the waitress arrived, Champagne and scotch in hand.
"Allow me," Sebastian said, taking the bottle and popping the cork with one easy twist of his wrist. He somehow managed to make even that simple gesture look sensual.
As he leaned in to pour, I couldn't help but breathe in the scent of him; scotch and sweat and something much more carnal. He smelled like pure sex, like raw, distilled masculinity. It sucked the breath from my lungs and turned my insides to jelly.
The Champagne fizzed and bubbled as it hit the glass, bringing me back to my senses.
"To men's intuition," he said, handing me the flute and raising his glass. I lifted my own, but refused to acknowledge his toast or the smug smile behind it.
Irritatingly, he was right. The Champagne was amazing. I tried my best to look unimpressed, although I didn't waste much time before taking another sip.
"How is it?" he asked.
I raised my hand and wobbled it from side to side. "It's okay."
His grin said he wasn't fooled, but he played along. "That's a shame. Hopeful
ly next time I can do a better job of pleasing you."
Something about the way he said it made me think he wasn't talking about drinks anymore.
"So Sebastian," I said, desperate to distract myself from the growing warmth between my legs, "when you're not accosting women at parties, what is it you do?"
"I work for Fraiser Capital. We're a venture capital firm. This is actually our gathering here. We throw these every now and again; little meet and greets for some of our clients."
"Ah of course," I said, trying to act like I recognised the name. We were in dangerous territory now. I still wasn't sure how much I was expected to know, or what kind of cover story I needed. I had to tread carefully.
I glanced around the room. "I didn't realise venture capitalists had this kind of money."
"Good ones do."
It seemed a little farfetched to me. The sort of excess on display seemed beyond any sort of corporate gathering. And that didn't explain what the hell Chase Adams was doing there. But pushing any more seemed like a good way to give myself away. "I see. And what makes a good venture capitalist?"
"The ability to know something special when you see it," he replied, staring directly into my eyes.
I couldn't help but smile at that. I had to hand it to him; he was incredibly smooth. But as much as it was pushing my buttons, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I knew how men like him worked. The Partners at my office were no different. It was like a sport to them; dangle a platinum AmEx in the air and watch the ladies flock. I'd even fallen for it a few times in my younger years; it's surprisingly easy to confuse other emotions for love when you don't know any better. Several horrible experiences later, I'd promised myself I'd never be one of those women again.
As if on cue, at that moment, a bikini clad girl appeared at his side.
"There you are, sir," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
The look she shot me suggested she wasn't pleased about where she'd found him. A girlfriend perhaps? That certainly cast things in a new light.
She was pretty, albeit in a strange, childlike way. Thin, almost frail looking, she had straw blond hair and huge doe eyes that made her seem younger than she probably was.
Sebastian's smile wavered. "Hannah," he said, a hint of displeasure in his voice. "What have I told you about interrupting me?"
She balked at his tone, but decided to press on. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I just thought you might want to come for a swim with me. The water is lovely."
It didn't take her long to realise she'd made a mistake. In the steely silence that followed, her enthusiasm quickly melted away. It wasn't that Sebastian looked angry — in fact his expression never wavered — but nonetheless I felt something shift in the air, some dangerous charge that hadn't been there before. I knew without it being said that a line had been crossed. Judging by the way Hannah began shrinking into herself, she knew as well.
"It would be rather rude of me to abandon my new friend here in the middle of our conversation, don't you think?" He didn't raise his voice, but there was an edge to it now that said he expected to be agreed with.
It seemed to have the desired effect. Hannah visibly wilted. "Of course sir. You're right. I'm sorry I bothered you."
He nodded in acceptance. There was something strange about the exchange. I'd revised my earlier guess. The way he scolded her didn't make them feel like a couple. But what then? Colleagues? A younger sister maybe? I wasn't sure.
Now that he'd made himself clear, Hannah seemed eager to be anywhere else. Turning quickly without another word, she began heading back towards the pool. For a second I thought that would be the end of it, but just before she disappeared into the crowd, Sebastian called out to her. "And Hannah." She turned, a look of dread on her face. "We'll talk about this later." Hannah nodded slowly.
Watching the defeated girl trudge away, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. I hoped I hadn't gotten her in any real trouble. His reaction seemed a little extreme, given the circumstances.
"I'm sorry about that," he said. "My secretary."
Secretary? Wow, that must be some work environment.
"It's fine. Really, I don't mind," I replied. "Go and have a swim if you want. I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself."
"I'm sure you can, but don't worry. Hannah and I will find time to have a paddle later." His eyes twinkled as he said that, like he'd just told a joke nobody else would understand.
"In any case, we're not done talking," he continued. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know a little about me, but I know nothing about you. When you're not being accosted by gentlemen at parties," I grinned at the joke, "what is it you do with yourself Sophia?"
"I'm a lawyer."
"Oh I'm so sorry," he said, his voice totally deadpan.
I just laughed. In my profession you rarely go more than a week or two without some kind of lawyer joke. It comes with the territory, and you learn not to take it seriously. "I know, right? If you want to turn and run I won't hold it against you."
"I'll keep that in mind. There are a few other lawyers here tonight actually. You didn't happen to come with any of them did you?"
My stomach clenched. There it was; a question I couldn't answer. My gut told me there were no unaccompanied women in the room, so I'd have to have a partner, and while he might not know everyone, I doubted I could bluff my way through it.
"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," I replied, trying my best to look coy. Inside, I was panicking. If he pressed the issue, that would be it. The jig would be up.
For a few seconds I was certain it was over, but eventually he broke into a laugh. "I'm sorry Sophia, I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious if there were any gentlemen lurking nearby who might be preparing to leap in and defend your honour."
I raised my eyebrows. "I didn't realise my honour was under threat."
His eyes seemed to flicker ever so briefly. "Give me a chance. We've only been talking a few minutes."
His directness was both offensive and exciting. I found myself wondering what it might be like to succumb to his advances. Even now, just sitting and talking, there was something fiercely attractive about him. I knew he'd be mind-blowing in bed. He exuded that sort of dominant authority that sent logic and self-restraint tumbling to the wayside.
Get a grip Sophia. This cannot happen.
"You seem rather sure of yourself," I said, trying my hardest to act unperturbed.
He gave a little laugh. "I prefer to think of myself as optimistic."
In truth, I doubted his confidence was misplaced. I struggled to see many women rejecting him, however blunt he was.
I realised then that I had to get away. The attraction I felt for him was verging on dangerous, and the longer we talked, the more likely it was that I'd do something stupid.
...okay, something else stupid.
"Well, unfortunately I'm going to have to leave your hopes dashed this time," I said. "I am actually here with someone, and it's about time I got back to him. I just left to get a refill, and that was ten minutes ago."
He studied me for several seconds. I expected him to look at least a little disappointed, but instead he seemed vaguely amused. "That's a pity," he said eventually. "But perhaps we'll run into one another again?"
"Perhaps." No fucking way.
"Excellent. Well, have a good evening Sophia." And with that, he turned and walked off into the crowd.
I blinked a few times and followed his receding form with my eyes, trying to work out what had just happened. It was like someone had climbed inside me and turned my hormones up to eleven. My heart was still thundering in my chest. Fantastic Sophia. Ten minutes with tall, dark, and charming and you're hyperventilating like a twelve year old at a Justin Bieber concert. What the hell is wrong with you?
I took a deep breath and downed the rest of my drink in a single large gulp, hoping to jar my mind into action. As attractive as he was, pursuing him was not an
option. All my reservations aside, I'd barely escaped our conversation without being exposed, and somehow I doubted he'd be so friendly if he knew the truth.
Besides, there was something almost terrifying about the way my body responded to him. Even now, I couldn't shake the image of those piercing eyes from my mind.
Glancing around, I suddenly became aware of how exposed I was. Nobody else in the room was standing alone. None of the guests had taken notice yet, but some of the staff were giving me strange looks. I knew I should take the opportunity to get the hell out of dodge, but I wasn't quite ready to face the girls just yet. The alcohol, the adrenaline, the lingering arousal; it was a potent cocktail. My mind was reeling. I needed somewhere to regroup.
"Excuse me," I said, to a pretty brunette behind the bar who was busy shaking up a lurid cocktail the colour of toxic waste, "where are the bathrooms?"
She gestured vaguely to the back of the room. "Just over there."
"Great, thanks."
I walked briskly, doing my best not to make eye contact with anyone. The girl's directions hadn't been very clear, but eventually I found an open doorway stashed in the far corner of the room. On the other side lay a corridor that ran for thirty feet and then hooked off to the right. There were no signs of any bathrooms.
I debated doubling back, but I hadn't seen any other likely openings. I figured they were just deeper in. So I began to explore.
CHAPTER THREE
For a moment after rounding the corner, I thought I'd found what I was looking for. The next hallway was lined with doors. But as I drew closer, I saw that rather than 'Gents' or 'Ladies', they were all marked with heavy brass name tags bearing identical logos. Not bathrooms. Personal offices.
My eyes darted back down the passage as I suddenly became aware of where I was. Sneaking into a party was one thing, but prowling through corporate property was quite another. It was a strange location to put offices, but I didn't have time to puzzle it out. If caught, I'd be in serious trouble.
